A Strange Group
by miyame-chan
Summary: Through my eyes, the Pretty Committee is beautiful, privileged, and... strange. Yes, I admit that just like many others, I still admire them, but maybe not to the point that I will kiss the ground they walk on. No, not anymore. Because now I realize that I am still my own person and that is more important than trying to become like them. Does that make me strange?


Hey! Enjoy!

Sadly, I do not own The Clique. :):

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A Strange Group

I never saw them together. I don't even think I've seen them talk to each other in the hallways for more than a minute—no, they were too busy doing the things they did in their own world to actually pay attention to each other.

The blonde soccer star was too busy being good in academics and playing soccer.

That loud redhead was too busy burying her nose in the gossip that her celebrity friends and celebrity parents provided her.

And the beautiful Latina was too busy making sure her pirouettes were perfect so that she could outshine this girl she called Skye Hamilton.

But all that changed the moment winter break ended.

I was walking down the halls, shaking the snow off my favorite bomber jacket, when suddenly, everyone's eyes were on me. _Did I forget to zip my zipper again? _I thought. _Or maybe my training bra is showing? _I looked down at my puffy pink shirt, but the white straps weren't showing. And that's when I realized that their envious and wondering stares weren't directed at me. They were directed to the people behind me.

I slowly turned, and to my surprise, saw Kristen Gregory, Alicia Rivera, and Dylan Marvil strutting down the hallways, side by side, like it would fool their audience that they've been friends forever. With their designer clothing and model frown faces, it was as if they were in New York Fashion Week. But what was even more surprising was the girl in the middle. All my life, I've never seen her. And I was pretty sure that I would definitely recognize a brunette with a piercing amber-eyed stare. A stare, I realized, that was directed at me. Knowing immediately what it meant, I scurried to the side to let them pass. And just like everyone else, I found myself asking, _"Who is she?" _

As the days passed by, I learned her name to be Massie Block. _Massie Block._ Definitely a pretty name to match that pretty face. But her attitude? Let's just say that it was as sweet as honey yet it stung like a bee. The same could be said about her new friends.

Just like everyone else in OCD, I found them to be interesting. So interesting, in fact, I longed to be part of their group or as Massie liked to call them, "The Pretty Committee." But just like what I said, those girls were sweet and yet bitter at the same time. But why would we long for to become one of their best friends? I really don't know. I guess that's one of their best kept secrets: how they manage to make people hate them, yet love them at the exact same time.

As the years rolled by, I realized something else. Through my eyes, not only were they beautiful and privileged, but they were also... _strange_.

I remember that one time when Massie started to become "friends" with Layne Abeley. From what I knew, those girls were like water and oil—they can never be mixed. Of course, I also knew that Massie was simply using Layne to get to Claire Lyons and get the dirt on her then-crush, Chris Abeley. But in the end, Claire was granted membership to the supposedly elite Pretty Committee.

Most people would theorize that it was because she lived in Massie's guest house. Some would say it was because of her fight with Alicia. Others would insist Massie was only using her—after all, she seemed like the type. But no matter the reason, it would still make us—the B-listers, C-listers, LBRs, and all that whatnot—jealous of that sweet blonde and just like her friends, love her at the same time.

And Claire's friendship with the girls gave us outsiders hope. If a girl from Florida was able to get in the exclusive circle, then that would mean us too, right? It was as if we were comparing the tight group to a rare diamond that only a few can have access too.

And in a way, we were. We worked hard in order to be in their good side. We sucked up to them; followed them around like we were some lost pug. We thought that if we tried hard enough, we'd be in their inner circle. Even the eclectic Layne secretly longed to be part of their group—such was the power of those five.

But now, looking back, it seems all wrong. It was as if I already gained access to that rare diamond, but still have that empty pit in my stomach. Even if I did become a friend of Massie's, what would that gain me? Privilege and popularity? Sure. But at what price? I didn't want to wear make-up and high heels everyday just to impress the student body. I didn't want to race against other people, looking for a key that lead to that stupid ESP. I didn't want to break up with my crush just to please my alpha. In short, I didn't want such petty drama to enter my life.

In a way, I think I've grown up.

And I think they have too. After all, I've been around, just dancing at the edge of their circle. I've seen it all: from their make ups to break ups, from their crushes to ex-crushes. And in the end, no matter what they have done to each other, they'll always forgive. Maybe they would never forget, but they would always forgive. And watching them right now, with their heads held high, trying to look brave despite the fact that it's obvious they feel incomplete without their alpha, I've realized that they're far from perfect. Isn't that strange? I always thought they were.

Yes, I admit that just like everyone else, I still admire them. But now, I have realized I am also Allie-Rose Singer and I am still my own person.

Does that make me strange? Maybe. But then again, who isn't?


End file.
